Real or Not Real
by daisyfreshx
Summary: Originally posted under the pen name RealNotReal74. My interpretation of what happened between Katniss and Peeta between the time the Capitol falls and the epilogue of Mockingjay. Katniss gets pregnant, but what happens when Gale returns? What will he have to say about this? Rated M for strong dark and sexual themes.
1. First Moments

(**A/N: The part below up to the words "So after, when he whispers, 'You love me. Real or not real?' I tell him, 'Real.'" is verbatim from the book **_**Mockingjay **_**by Suzanne Collins, the third part of the **_**Hunger Games**_** trilogy. I do not own This quote, nor do I own the characters I am writing about. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story.)**

I got the idea from our family's plant book. The place where we recorded those things you cannot trust to memory. The page begins with the person's picture. A photo if we can find it. If not, a sketch or painting by Peeta. Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim's cheek. My father's laugh. Peeta's father with the cookies. The color of Finnick's eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count, Haymitch finally joins us, contributing twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. And old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie's newborn son.

We learn to keep busy again. Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out, and then raises geese until the next train arrives. Fortunately, the geese can take pretty good care of themselves. We're not alone. A few hundred others return because, whatever has happened, this is our home. With the mines closed, they plow the ashes into the earth and plant food. Machines from the Capitol break ground for a new factory where we will make medicines. Although no one seeds it, the Meadow turns green again.

Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.

So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"

I tell him, "Real."

And I did love him. That boy with the bread, the one who saved me in so many more ways than I can possibly think of. I could no longer imagine my life without him.

It doesn't come as a surprise to anyone when Peeta and I officially begin living together, our love for each other not allowing us to be apart any longer.

It's been a long day, and I finally come home to an empty house carrying a bag that holds the game from my hunting; 2 turkeys and a few rabbits, caught in a snare. I vaguely wonder where Peeta is, but I push the thought to the back of my mind so as not to worry.

As the hours go by and I finish skinning the rest of my game, I begin to wonder again where Peeta is, and why he's been out so late. I don't remember him saying anything about going out tonight, but I start to worry that maybe he did and I just can't recall. I search the recesses of my memory and come up empty handed.

Instead of dwelling on it for too long, after a few more hours of keeping my hands busy with cleaning and cooking, I begin to get ready for bed.

I slide off my hunting boots, which I then throw on the floor. These are followed by a jacket, my jeans, and the thermal shirt I was wearing out earlier to get more game. In nothing but my undergarments, I slide into bed and pull the covers around me, allowing the smell of Peeta to consume my nose and calm me until I finally fall into a deep realm of sleep.

* * *

I'm running.

I don't know why I'm running, but I can feel the wind moving my hair out of my face, the smell of the low tide coming in, the dry, grainy sand underneath my feet that shifts every time I move.

I don't know why I'm here, but I'm back in the field of the 75th Hunger Games. I'm back in the circular beach that surrounds a circular sea of clear blue water. I quickly try to put together what part of the field I'm in, and what time it might be. I don't have any clues, so I just keep pushing forward as fast as I possibly can, trying to get through every piece of the field I can make it through without getting any injuries on the way.

I just keep running. It's almost as if I can't stop, I keep pushing myself forward, forcing my legs to move. I'm vaguely aware of the amount of fatigue I feel, keeping my body weighted despite how fervent I've been about pushing forward.

I hear sounds behind me, low, vicious growls that seem to be coming from the bellies of some sort of beasts. And then I realize something, and it hits me hard, like a rock right to my stomach. A realization that knocks the breath right out of me.

I'm being chased, by mutts.

Now I really push myself forward, a new kind of fear coursing through my veins and dictating every single movement that I made.

I'm running, running around the clockwork style field of the Quarter Quell. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, blocking out most of the gruesome noises coming from the hungry mutts behind me.

And then, after 2 circles around the clock, I trip over a rock that just appeared out of nowhere. A rock that the Game makers put there to cause me to trip, falling to my inevitable death. I slowly move my body so I can see how many mutts there are, so I can see how fast or how painful my death is going to be. But when I turn around, thinking I'll see at least 5 mutts, I see only one. One terrifying mutt, teeth bared, glaring hard at me with bright blue eyes. And before he lunges at me, I realize something.

The eyes belong to Peeta.

* * *

"Katniss!" I can hear someone screaming my name in the distance, I can hear someone shouting for me to come back to them. I'm somehow trapped between the real world and this world where I'm being brutally attacked by this mutt that has taken Peeta's eyes. I just shake and cry.

"Katniss! Katniss, wake up!" I hear more shouting; I think someone is shaking me. Is it the mutt? Has the mutt taken Peeta's voice, too? I don't want to open my eyes, I'm afraid. I think I'm crying. I know I'm thrashing wildly, trying to fight off the mutt. I can't take anymore head games. Please, no.

"Katniss," I hear again, only more quiet, more painful, "Katniss, sweetie, please. Please open your eyes. Come back to me." It is Peeta. Do I dare open my eyes, though? Is this all a trick? I feel arms closing around my waist, and I'm pulled into something warm and comfortable. Slowly, I begin to open my eyes.

What I see is Peeta, staring at me intently with tear brimmed eyes. I see blood leaking from some scratches on him, and when I look down I notice that there are scratches on me, too. I must look absolutely feral right now, because Peeta gives me a sorrowful look and a tear falls from his left eye. I'm confused. I can still hear my heart pounding in my ears, but I no longer hear the sounds of the mutt. I hear Peeta's breathing next to me. I feel his arm securely around me. I see the blood staining my hands, and then I understand.

"Did I do this?" I ask, trying to put all the strength I can muster into the question, but instead I let out a shaky whisper.

Peeta can't seem to look at me now. "I didn't know what to do," he replies, his voice choked with tears. "I came home and you were screaming, I thought…" he looks away from me. "And then I came into the bedroom and you were digging your nails into yourself. Scratching yourself so badly. I couldn't watch you hurt yourself like that, I just couldn't. I'm so sorry, Katniss." He whispers into my neck. Is he really apologizing to me? I trace my fingers across the scratches on his neck and chin. Scratches that match my fingernails almost perfectly.

"I did this to you." I whisper quietly. I feel horrible.

He smoothes my hair back and plants a sweet kiss on my forehead. "It's okay, Katniss. It's okay." He pulls my trembling form into his strong arms, holding me tightly to his chest. I don't know what to think, what to feel. My head is reeling. But I was just dreaming, I was just dreaming.

"Where were you?" I ask him, gaining some of my real voice back. He looks at me, and then his expression drops.

"I was having an episode. I was with Haymitch." He says this with so much pain laced in his words; I completely understand now.

He places a hand on either side of my face, turning me to look at him. He uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears that I didn't realize I was shedding. Then, unexpectedly, he leans in and captures my lips with his own. We're kissing. Slowly, gently. And after each long kiss, we part to take a breath, and then we attack each other's lips again, the fire within us growing more and more furiously with each touch of our lips. I feel that hunger again, the same hunger I felt on the beach all that time ago, growing more and more as we keep kissing. His lips hungrily ravish mine, and he pulls my bottom lip in between his own. I thought my head was reeling before, but now it really is spinning. I feel my body rolling over until my back is on the bed and Peeta is on top of me, my legs spread to accommodate his position over my body.

I pull away for a moment to try to catch my breath. And I realize how much I need this man, how I absolutely need to know for real that he's still here, with me, loving me.

"Katniss?" Peeta's questioning tone brings me out of my thoughts and back to the real world for a moment. I look at him longingly.

"Peeta…" I whisper, and then take his face in both of my hands and kiss him, full on the lips. "Make love to me?" I half ask, half beg. I need him. I truly need him. He just smiles at me, and I know he simply can't refuse me.

Instead of giving a response, he peppers my face with small kisses before capturing my lips in a more passionate one again. He's gentle with me, laying a hand tenderly on my cheek before tasting my bottom lip, asking for permission to enter.

We lay there like that for a few more minutes, just taking in the taste of each other before he pulls away to peel my bra away from my skin. My breasts now freed, I'm suddenly self conscious, and I cross my arms over my bare breasts. Peeta just kisses me softly.

"Let me see you," he whispers gently. I can't deny him this, so I reluctantly uncross my arms and reveal myself to him in my entirety for the first time since we've moved in together.

He kisses the valley between my breasts, and in a voice barely above a whisper against my skin, says a single word, "Beautiful."

We take breaks between kissing each other to remove the rest of our clothing, until finally, he leans over me, his weight balanced carefully on his elbows.

"Are you sure you want this, Katniss?" He asks me quietly. I look up at him, and try to put all of my love for him in my face. I nod, spreading my legs.

"I need you, Peeta." I tell him flat out. I move my hands so each one is resting on one of his corresponding shoulders, and I move my hips up until the tip of his manhood just barely grazes the entrance of my folds. He moans and loses his breath with just that one motion. Before he can allow me anymore thought about it, he's entering me. He repositions his arms until they're under my back, steadying me while he pushes slowly into me. I close my eyes to shut out my discomfort. It doesn't hurt, necessarily, but it takes some getting used to. When he's all the way inside of me, he looks at me and waits for me to adjust to him.

I open my eyes, and looking down at me is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. "Please, move." I ask him, moving my hips up a bit to allow him deeper access to my core. He lets out a small moan before he pulls almost completely out of me and then thrusts back in. We move together, slowly, our hips meeting each other while we desperately hold our bodies close together. We start picking up speed, and that hunger, that insatiable hunger that I've been feeling ever since that night at the beach, is crawling back up again. The faster he goes, the more I can feel this strange thing in the pit of my stomach, this thing that just keeps growing and growing, consuming my entire body until I have no choice but to tense up, back arching and toes curling. I cry out Peeta's name while my body tenses and I dig my fingertips into his back, and at the same time, I feel his seed being spilled into me. We ride out each other's orgasms until we're both panting, and we collapse against each other.

"I love you," he whispers, pulling out of me.

"I love you, too." I reply, curling up against his side while he throws the blanket over us. We start drifting off together in each other's arms, and as the world becomes black around me, the last thing I can feel is Peeta's flesh against mine, and his heart beat against my ear. My hunger is completely satisfied.


	2. White Hills

(**A/N: The dream sequence below is roughly based on "Hills Like White Elephants," a short by Ernest Hemingway. I do not own any part of the **_**Hunger **_**Games trilogy. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story.)**

The hills in the forest blind me today while the sun reflects off the snow that completely blankets them. Peeta and I sit next to each other at the table, across from us, Haymitch, complete with his typical bottle of whatever alcohol he's indulging in.

Surprisingly, today, there are two glasses in front of Peeta and me as well. I barely notice that out of the corner of my eye. I'm too mystified by the round white hills that I can see from behind the window. They're distracting, all I can think about. Peeta picks up his glass and takes a long swig from the red tinted liquid that fills it. Looking away from the window, I take a sip from mine, as well. Peeta looks at me for the first time, his eyes tired.

"It's awfully hot in here," I say, more to myself than to anyone else in the room "Peeta, why don't you open up the window, let the air in?"

He takes hold of the two drawstrings hanging from the blinds on the window, contemplates them for a minute.

"It's awfully cold outside," he replies, looking out the window at the white hills, too. He probably would feel more comfortable with this warmth, but I'm unhappy.

"Please, love," I ask again, "A lot of people open their windows during the winter because they're uncomfortable with the fireplace. They're all perfectly happy afterwards."

"Are they? I feel like I would be much happier with the warmth, where I'm comfortable."

It seems so silly, that we're suddenly so upset over opening up a window. As I'm watching myself from where I am in dreamland, I contemplate what this could possibly mean. Haymitch pipes in from across the table.

"It's so strange now that the games are over." Odd, Haymitch isn't typically the philosophical type.

"I know. It's almost like we can have the whole world now. We're not being controlled by the Capitol anymore." Peeta adds, taking another sip of his drink.

"We can't have the whole world," he whispers. "It's like it still isn't ours, because of the Capitol. Once it's taken, we can never get it back…" What is he talking about? Of course the world is ours, we beat the Capitol. We won, we can own our thoughts and dreams again. We can own our land again. I really wish I knew why he was saying these things.

I glance away from Peeta and back to the hills. Vaguely I hear him ask Haymitch to pour two more drinks, one for me, and one for him. Why are we drinking, anyways? We never drink.

But yet, here we are, drinking two glasses of red booze together. There are five drinks at the table right now. There are the drinks for the two of us, and then the bottle for the add on to our table.

Peeta kisses my cheek. "If you really want to, you can open the window. But I'm going to go into a warmer part of the house." Haymitch silently agrees with Peeta, standing up and taking his bottle with him. Peeta clears the empty glasses from the table.

As they leave, I glance away from the perfectly round, long, white hills across the way. The only thing left on the table is my one glass.

* * *

I wake with a start for the first time since Peeta and I made love that night so many weeks ago. I haven't had a dream in weeks, since I imagined the hounds chasing me in my dreams. I wonder vaguely what this could mean, but shake it off and decide that it's probably nothing.

I feel Peeta stirring next to me, his bare body radiating warmth against my back.

"Everything alright, Katniss?" I can almost feel myself nod as I wonder if everything really is alright.

"I had a dream," I reply quietly. But, just because I don't want him to ask questions, I add, "But it was really silly. I guess it just woke me up." Peeta lets his eyes close again and he smiles, pulling me in closer to him.

"Well, good morning, anyways," he whispers into my ear, rubbing his hand up and down the flat plane of my stomach. I feel a smile creep onto my face and I rest my hand on top of his.

"Good morning," I reply tiredly. Feeling his hands on me brings warmth to my whole body. He seems to pay special attention to my stomach today, though, I notice. His fingers tracing around my belly button, the palms of his hands running over my pale curves, grown more defined with age. He then turns me around to face him so our bodies are pressed against each other and we lay staring into the other's intense gaze. I lean in and kiss him, resting a gentle hand on his face.

We lay there, kissing, running our hands up and down each other's warm bodies, when he starts trailing kisses down my neck. He rolls me onto my back and efficiently under him. His kisses go down my neck, in between my breasts, and to my stomach. He kisses in little circles around my abdomen before kissing his way back up to my lips.

He holds me close. Our kissing is becoming feverish, fueled by animalistic need. But right as his hands start to wander down my body, I feel incredibly nauseated.

Before I can say anything, I'm forced by the rise of the contents of my stomach to sprint to the bathroom. I vomit with a violent force, almost like nothing I've ever felt before. The acid taste in my mouth feels so vile when I think back to the taste of Peeta on my tongue that I throw up again just because of the comparison. I hear Peeta come into the bathroom and kneel behind my naked form.

"Katniss, are you okay?" His words are laced with nothing but the purest concern for me. I turn and open my mouth to reply, but another wave of nausea sends my face back to the toilet. After throwing up for the third time, I flush down the vile, acidic ex contents of my stomach. I lean back into Peeta, who pulls me into his lap and holds me.

"I don't remember being sick like that since finding out about us having to go back to the games." I whisper quietly. I contemplate where this sudden illness could have possibly come from when just moments before, I was perfectly fine. Then it hits me.

The dream. How Peeta wanted something that I just didn't for some reason. How once something is gone, we can't get it back. How he left the decision up to me, in the end. The hills. The white hills that oddly resembled…

"Peeta," I whisper, shaking. His grip on me tightens and he looks at me with immense worry.

"Katniss, you're shaking. What is it? What's wrong?" It all makes sense. The dream was trying to tell me something. Some higher power was trying to send me a signal with Peeta's extra attention to my stomach this morning.

I start to cry, and before I can stop the words from falling out of my mouth, I let out what I only just realized.

"Peeta, I think I'm pregnant."


	3. Just Beautiful

(**A/N: I do not own any part of the **_**Hunger **_**Games trilogy. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story. Thank you for the reviews and favorites, xoxo.)**

Peeta places his warm hand on my stomach, almost as though he could somehow verify if I was pregnant or not. The upcoming wave of nausea seemed verification enough for me.

I start counting back. When was the last time I'd even had my period? And then it occurs to me that somehow I didn't realize that I'd missed it for so long. The last time I remembered being on my period was the week before Peeta and I had sex for the first time. Almost 7 weeks later, I ought to have gotten it by now.

After flushing down what little contents of my stomach I had left to throw up, I go to the full length mirror behind the door of our bathroom. I place a hand on my stomach and look at myself from the side. Could it be true? Am I really carrying Peeta's baby?

My thoughts are interrupted by two strong arms circling around my waist. "Katniss, this is…"

"Awful," I finish his thoughts out loud. I can't have a baby. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never have children. I wouldn't be a good mother, and even though the war is over, I don't want to bring a child into it.

"Awful?" Peeta repeats. He holds me tighter. "I was thinking more along the lines of wonderful." I turn to face him.

"How can you possibly think that this is wonderful, Peeta? I can't be a mother…" I sink into myself a little, thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong if I had a child.

"Because _we_ are having a child. Katniss, you're not in this alone, you know." He whispers, finishing his sentence with a small kiss. "You beat the Capitol, you saved all the districts from more games, from losing more children. You can do anything." He kisses me gently. "We don't have to worry about our children being sent to the games," he adds. He knows exactly what to say. I was, in the recesses of my mind, actually worried about our children having to go off to the games some day.

He leans down and kisses my eyelids, wiping my tears away with his thumb. His hand lingers on my face. "You don't have to do this alone," he promises before kissing me again, this time on the lips.

I open my mouth, try to say something funny, something to make me seem stronger. To say… _something_. But instead of words, a broken sob falls out of my mouth and I crumple to my knees. This is the first time I remember having such a bad break down since before the Quarter Quell. Peeta falls to his knees beside me and pulls me into his arms. "Shhh… Katniss, love, calm down." He rocks me gently, trying to soothe me. "We'll go see your mother, she knows more about this than either of us do." He holds me tighter, and all I can do is nod. Mother will surely know what to do.

* * *

Hours later, we're dressed and walking over to mother's house. I try to control my nausea, but as soon as she lets us inside I run as fast as I possibly can to the bathroom.

I vaguely hear a soft exchange of chatter over the sound of my purging. When I finally come out of the bathroom, my mother takes me into her arms and I cry. "How late are you?" She asks me, taking her nurse's tone instead of a motherly one.

I think for a moment back to the number that I counted to earlier. "8 weeks. I missed 2 periods." She orders me to stretch out on the couch and lift my shirt up to just under my bosom. After a few moments of gentle poking and prodding from my mother, she looks up at me with a stoic face but a soft twinkle in her eye.

"You're pregnant," she tells me. She guides my hand to my stomach where she presses it down lightly, and there it is. My son, or daughter. A small lump in my stomach as of right now, but one that will flourish within the 28 or so weeks to come.

But in feeling the lump in my stomach, I feel something in my heart as well. A little flutter. I can't help the smile that comes to my face, and I look over to Peeta who cautiously smiles back.

"Peeta, come here," I whisper, for some reason being unable to raise my voice to above that level. He walks over to me and I take his hand in mine, pressing it gingerly into my abdomen. I feel that flutter again, and he stares, awestruck, at his fingertips.

"Is that… That's our baby," he whispers to himself. He looks to me for reassurance, almost asking quietly if we're going to go through with this. I nod. "That's our baby," I confirm.

"Unfortunately," my mom chimes in, "I have to run to a patient's house. He has the flu, and needs some new medication for it." She kisses my cheek and hugs Peeta's shoulders. "Come back in 2 weeks for another check up, we'll see how the baby is coming along." Peeta helps me up and pulls me into his arms, giving me a sweet kiss on the forehead.

* * *

We hold hands as we walk from my mother's house back to our own. As soon as we get back into the house, he closes the door and pulls me into a deep kiss that I simply can't refuse. My arms wrap themselves around his neck, my hands moving from his neck into his hair, pulling his face closer to mine. Our lips crash like the waves of the Quarter Quell arena, and before I can realize what's happening, my back is against the wall. Our kissing turns into an all out war, fighting for domination over each other. He holds my hands and efficiently pins me up against the wall, grinding his hips into mine. We part for air, and his gaze burns into mine.

"You know, we never did finish this morning." He says, voice husky from our kiss. He lets go of my hands and pulls my tee shirt up out of my pants and over my head. He gazes hungrily at my almost bare torso. "Beautiful," he whispers, reaching behind me to peel my bra away from my skin. "Just beautiful." He repeats. His hands move from my back to my breasts, where he holds each one in his hands and massages them. His thumbs brush across my hardened nipples, moving them in small circles. I let a moan slip from my mouth. He leans down to take one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting on it gently. I feel heat radiating down into my core. He kisses from my breasts down my stomach and he places a hand there.

"Beautiful," he whispers into my skin, referring to the stomach that harbors his child. His skilled fingers unbutton my jeans and easily slide me out of them. Against the wall, I'm there before him in only my underwear. He unbuttons his shirt and pulls it away from his skin, leaving him bare chested before me. He kisses me again, this time a little bit softer than before. While we're kissing, I unbutton his jeans, dropping them to the ground with his boxers to let him step out of them and kick them to the side. He pushes against me so my back is completely flat against the wall and his hard member is pressed against my abdomen. I drop down to my knees in front of him, the tip of his length running up past my breasts and then just away from my mouth. I look up at him with big eyes before I take him into my mouth. His hands find their way to my head, his fingers into my long brown hair. He weaves himself into my hair and then guides the motion of my head, back and forth. He glides in and out of my mouth, the taste of him is heavy on my tongue. He groans.

"Oh, fuck, Katniss. I need you." I look up at him before I slide away from his hard member and stand up again.

"Then take me." I dare him. It doesn't take saying it more than once. Before the sentence even leaves my mouth, he has my legs around his waist and me further up against the wall. He slides me down the wall and efficiently down onto him. Once he's completely sheathed in my wet folds, we each let out a moan and then relish the feel of each other's bodies. After a few tender moments, he starts thrusting into me. One of my arms cling to him while the other one grips the wall itself as a form of support. I feel him thrusting easily into my wet depths, sliding with our natural lubrication. I moan loudly as he adjust his rhythm and his roughness. He's pounding into me, the whole house shaking, before I feel myself start to reach the peak of orgasm. I feel him seem to get bigger in me, which means I must be getting tighter around him. He thrusts one last time and he spills his seed into me as I cry out. We're both panting, shaking. He turns so his back is against the wall and we both come to a pile on the floor. He picks me up, pulling out of me, and then holds me in his lap. I cuddle up against his chest.

"I love you," he says into m neck. I can't help the smile that comes to my face when he adds, "And the baby."

"And we love you, too."


	4. Ease

(**A/N: I do not own any part of the **_**Hunger **_**Games trilogy. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story. Thank you for the reviews and favorites, xoxo.)**

About three weeks after I found out that I was pregnant, and I'm already showing a considerable amount. There's a slight swell in my belly where my child is blossoming inside of me. Peeta can barely make it in the house before he smiles at me and asks how I feel today, and in turn, how the baby is doing.

"I've been nauseous." I reply from my spot on the couch. I rest a hand on the small bulge, and I sigh. "He's been fluttering again." Peeta walks over and places his hand just over mine, and smiles. He leans in and steals a kiss, his hand still over my midsection.

"Can't sit still?" He asks, and I nod in affirmation. "Just like his mom." He kisses me once more before straightens himself up.

"I have to go run some errands," he says to me. "I have to get you some medicine, make sure the baby will stay healthy." He lifts my shirt up slightly to kiss my belly, then kisses my nose. "I'll be back soon, okay?" I don't want to be alone. I'm not sure why but I feel so off today. His bright smile, however, wipes every ounce of worry away from my mind.

"Okay," I respond with my own smile. We kiss one last time before he turns around to walk out. I pull my feet up under me and snuggle into myself on our couch, resting my hand over my current most prized possession. I let a small sigh escape my lips and feel so at ease.

A knocking on the door brings me out of my thoughts and back into the real world.

"Peeta, stop locking yourself out!" I smile and struggle a little bit to get up. I shake my head as I walk to the door. Peeta locks himself out of our house almost every week. He never has his key on him, so I think to myself what luck it is that I'm actually home this time.

"I really wish you'd carry your k-" I open the door and am shocked to find myself staring into gray eyes.

"Hey Katnip."


	5. Discomfort

(**A/N: I do not own any part of the **_**Hunger **_**Games trilogy. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story. This chapter was particularly hard for me to write, for obvious reasons, but felt like I would give it to you early because I left you with a cliff hanger. Thank you for the reviews and favorites, xoxo.)**

"Gale." One name. Seeing his face, saying his name has created a paradox of emotions inside of me. I can barely believe my eyes, but I step back almost as if he's slapped me. He takes this opportunity to step forward into my house.

"How have you been, Katnip?" That name stings. No one has called me that in a very long time.

"It's Katniss, and I've been keeping." I say, dangerously low. I hadn't even notice that my arm had wrapped itself protectively around the swell in my stomach until I looked down so I could keep my gaze away from his eyes. Suddenly, though, I feel Gale's gaze switch from my face to my obviously pregnant stomach.

"Katniss…" He bites back and I flinch. "I thought you were never having kids?" It's both a question and a statement. He takes another step forward, and I carefully take a step back. My gaze snaps back to his eyes so I can watch what he's doing. He closes the door and locks it behind him.

"I didn't plan on having children. But I found that once Peeta and I got pregnant, I couldn't let it go." Both of my hands are folded protectively over my stomach now, almost like I could ward off anything that could hurt my baby with myself as my weapon. Gale flinches too as I say Peeta's name. He backs me up into the room until I stagger into a sitting position on the couch.

"I've missed you, Katnip." He's way too close to me, and my hands instinctively come back up to shield my child. His hand comes up to my face and I turn away from him, but he forcefully takes my face in his hands and forces me to look at him. "I think you know you've missed this, too." I'm about to respond when I feel his lips, hard and cool against mine, so different from Peeta's soft, warm kisses that I've become so accustomed to. I try to pull away but his grip on my face tightens and he pins my against the couch, his knees on my thighs. He groans.

"You've filled out so nicely," he comments, crushing me against the back of the couch. My stomach tightens with a very uncomfortable clenching and uneasy feeling. That off feeling suddenly comes back to me, and for some reason I don't think this is where our meeting is going to end. He moves my body so my backside is lying across the couch and then he moves his own body so he's straddling me. Fear like I haven't felt since the games, like I haven't felt since the Quarter Quell, is suddenly gripping my throat, choking me. "I'd love to see what it looks like out of these." He pulls at my shirt. My hands leave my belly for a moment to try to push him off of me. He responds with a chuckle, and he pulls me up by the collar of my shirt. "Don't fight, Katnip. It'll only make it worse." He forcefully throws me into the wall across the room, and I crumple into a heap on the floor. I pick myself back, feeling a steady ache growing in both my back and my stomach and I cry out as I see blood beginning to gather around me on the floor.

Gale's footsteps are picked up vaguely by my ears as I focus on where the blood is coming from. I look up at him with pleading eyes. "Gale, please stop this and help me to my mom." I beg him. "I can't lose this baby," tears pool in my eyes. He smirks wickedly at me.

"I'm just helping you out. You didn't want kids anyways." He grabs me again by the collar of my shirt and pins me to the wall, tearing my tee shirt away from me. I try to cover myself with my arms, I wasn't wearing a bra since I was in the comfort of my own home and my pregnancy had caused an uncomfortable swelling in my breasts, the cool air hits my breasts and causes my body to react despite the way I feel. Gale just smirks again and pins my wrists to my sides.

"Don't bother trying to hide it, Katniss. I will have you, one way or another." He takes my nipple into his mouth and bites down, tasting it with his tongue. I cry out in pain, my breasts are especially sensitive right now. He smiles around my breast, and moves on to the next one, biting down on this one a little harder.

I'm suddenly very aware of the blood that's dripping down my legs and onto the floor, and I look back at him. "Gale, please, I won't tell anyone, just take me to my mom." He pulls away from my breasts and then looks up at me with a stone cold face.

He slaps me across the face, and smiles as I fall to the floor, my hand rising to the stinging part of my cheek. He kicks my face next, square in the nose. I can taste blood as it flows from my nose into my mouth.

He says nothing. He just picks me up and places me on the couch again, tying my hands up over my head onto the armrest. I feel a tight clenching in my stomach which alone makes me cry out again. He forces his lips upon mine, and then starts kissing me all over my neck and chest, leaving a trail of my own blood on my skin. His hands grip my breasts and his fingers twist my nipples, an extremely painful motion with how sensitive they've become. His hands move down and he pulls my pants with my underwear away from my body. I try to kick at him, but he just takes my legs and spreads them uncomfortably far apart.

"Stop!" I cry out at Gale, I have to. I have to try to reason with him. His hands come up to my throat and squeeze tightly until I see speckles of darkness filling my vision. He cuts off all of my air supply, putting his whole weight on the hands that are restricting my air flow.

"What did I say about fighting?" He lets go of my throat and I breathe loudly. His face is not amused and he forces 3 fingers into me. He lingers inside me for a moment before pulling his hand back, dripping with blood. "You're ready for me," he smirks. He unbuttons his pants and pulls his length out. I look up at him one last time before he slams into me. The area is extremely sensitive, especially where Peeta hasn't even made love to me since the day I found out that I was pregnant. It's so different than the way Peeta feels. It's so rough, so painful. I feel tears pour down my face as he pulls out and slams back in again. The motion is repeated for what feels like hours before he finally releases himself into me. He pulls out, blood and his own residue clinging to his manhood and he smiles at me. He unties me, and pushes me to the ground. My stomach is clenching with pain and I curl up into fetal position on the floor. "If you're lucky, I won't be back." He says. He kicks me hard in the abdomen before he straightens up and walks out the door, leaving me bleeding and broken on the floor.

I lay there, unable to move, just holding my stomach and curling up into myself. I let myself fade into darkness.

* * *

"Katniss!" I hear shouting, vaguely. Everything's so dark, and fuzzy. Where am I? "Katniss! Katniss wake up!" I'm being quite forcefully shaken. I'm suddenly quite aware that I'm sprawled across the ground, someone's hands on my shoulders. "Katniss, please," the voice is choked up with tears. I try to pull away from myself so I can wake up. I wince, which I immediately regret. The past few hours come back to me, and I realize that my nose is probably broken. I open my eyes, and I gaze into piercing blue ones.

"Oh my god, Katniss," he pulls me up and holds me close to his body. "I came in and there was blood, everything was thrown everywhere, you were… You were on the floor. I thought you were dead."

"Peeta," I whisper. I can barely form words, and his name comes out as a broken, raspy noise.

"Katniss… I shouldn't have left you." He strokes my face gently, wiping my tears away with his thumb. "What… What happened?" I just shake my head, trying to remember exactly what happened.

"Gale was… Gale came by and he…" I let out a sob. "He said that… He said that he wanted it for so long." Peeta's eyes turn dark blue with rage, and I can see the venom of hate creeping into his face like a poison. I flinch away from him when I see the hate fill his face, he reminds me too much of Gale, and I can't stand it. He immediately softens and pulls me back against his chest. He kisses my forehead.

"What did he do, love?" He asks, barely above a whisper. He probably knows already, he just needs to hear me say it.

I jump up suddenly, and again, regret the movement and fall back down. Peeta lifts me onto the couch and soothes me before I'm able to have an anxiety attack. My hand flies to my stomach, which is still slightly swollen with my pregnancy. I look around. See my blood splattered on the walls, all across the floor and the couch. Peeta looks at my stomach and then back up to me.

"Katniss…?" I burst into tears and he rests his hand over mine, suddenly understanding so much more than he wanted to know. "The… the baby?" He questions, tears reforming in his eyes.

"I think I lost the baby."


	6. Make It Go Away

(**A/N: I do not own any part of the **_**Hunger **_**Games trilogy. The only thing I own is bits of the plot that I'll be incorporating into the story. Thank you for the reviews and favorites, xoxo.)**

He holds me closer to him, his warm body soothing against my own cold, naked form. He kisses my eyes. "It'll be okay, love. Let's get you cleaned up," he tries to force his voice into something calming, but he can barely hide the panic that he feels from me. He stands up, carrying me bridal style into the bathroom. Without letting go of me, he starts running the shower to a comfortably warm setting. Steam fills up the room, and I can't help but sit against his chest and cry.

He rocks me absent mindedly against his chest. "Shhhhh, don't cry, my love," his right hand runs itself through my hair while his left hand holds me securely against his body. I just can't seem to help the stream of tears that continuously flow down my cheeks, dripping onto his shirt. "I'll call your mother while you're in the bath, alright? She can check to see if our baby is alright." He tries to be my brick wall, but I can hear the crack in his voice as he says the words _our baby_. He kisses my forehead, eases me into the shower stall filled with steam and hot running water, which feels wonderful against my aching body, and then closes the door behind him as he leaves to call my mother.

I feel sick to my stomach as I watch the blood taint the water as it's draining. I stand there for what seems like forever, listening to nothing but the water beat against the shower floor and walls and the thoughts inside of my head. As the water starts to cool down, I shake myself back into what's going on around me and I turn the heat on to full blast. I pick up a bar of soap and a cloth, lathering up the fabric before I start scrubbing myself with it.

I need to clean the blood off of me. I have to scrub myself clean. I scrub at my skin hard until I see no traces of blood left on me aside from some scabs. I back up against the wall of the shower and slide down until I'm sitting on the floor, continuing to scrub myself, especially my thighs. I can't help but let my mind slip to how dirty I am, how Peeta will never want me after someone else has taken me in such an intimate and personal way. I scrub harder.

_Make it go away. Make __**him**__ go away…_

My official mantra. I keep saying it in my mind, and I let out sobs of anger and disgust while I continue scrubbing my body clean.

I'm so focused on scrubbing and cleaning myself that I don't notice the door open or Peeta step inside. I only realize he's here when he calls for me, opens the door to our shower and I look up at him. Tears sting my eyes when I see his face and I can feel myself falling apart.

"Let's get you out of here, you've damn near scrubbed yourself raw." And I didn't notice it before, but when I look down I can see bright red splotches of broken, raw skin all over my body. "Your mom will be here shortly to take a look at you. I didn't explain everything… I don't even know everything, but I wanted to make sure that you were alright." I nod as he places a towel around my shoulders and holds my shivering body close to him.

* * *

About 30 minutes later, I'm dressed and dry. I'm sitting on the couch with Peeta across from my mother who is asking us both questions about the earlier events of the day. After some answers are given, my mother asks me to lie down in my bedroom and get undressed. The gesture fills me with nerves, but I'm made calm by the fact that my mother would never do anything to hurt me.

I get under the blankets, completely undressed, and she comes in with Peeta to have a look at what could be wrong. Peeta steps back out and tells mom that he'll come back in when she's ready to give a diagnosis.

Once we're alone, my mother pulls up the covers and spreads my legs. After prodding my stomach, and looking around inside of me, I hear a sigh and she comes back up, pulling the blankets down and tucking them under the mattress. She calls Peeta back in, and Peeta rushes over to me so he can hold me tight.

"My news is… Not very good." She says gravely. Fresh tears spring to my eyes and Peeta's grip on me tightens. "Your cervix is completely dilated." She explains. "If there was any way to save the baby before, there's nothing we can do for it now." I look at her wide eyed, I'm not sure that I completely understand what she's telling me.

"You mean… she…" Peeta struggles to find the words to say the one thing none of us want to hear.

"She miscarried." My mother confirms. I bury my face into Peeta's neck and he holds me so close I feel like I can barely breathe. I can feel his sobs start to shake him, and tears start running down my face. My mother senses that we need to be alone, and she leaves us to our heartbreaking moment together.

"I'm so sorry." Peeta whispers into my hair. I shake my head. What is he sorry for? He hasn't done anything to me. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who failed him. "I'm so sorry that I didn't protect you."

"No. Don't you dare. Don't you dare think like that." I feel my breathe shaking as the words come out of my mouth. "This is not your fault." I shake my head, I'm not sure who I'm trying to assure; him or me.

Peeta just holds me closer and kisses my forehead. I can feel his tears drip onto my face, but the last words I hear are "I love you so much, Katniss," before I break into real sobs.


End file.
